Of Thinking and Doing
by Purplereader
Summary: Ron sits by the fire and tries not to think about love. Hermione does the same. Pure fluff R/Hr


Of Thinking and Doing

By Purplereader

Hello everyone! This is MY FIRST FANFIC EVER, so be nice! Let's see, I wrote this the day the third movie came out, lost in a fury of Ron/Hermione passion. I've changed it a lot since then, mostly in Hermione's part.

Please please please review. Also, be sure to check out RupertGrintLvr7's fic The Secrets of All Hearts. It is written by Leah, my best-est friend in the whole wide world, so READ! And read mine too please.

(ps. Just so all of you don't go "Oh, great, another little newbie who has no idea what she's talking about," I have been on this site every weekend and summer day for the past two years. Just thought you ought to know.)

Now read!

* * *

It was a clear, cool night, and Ron Weasley stared absently at the stars through the window of the Gryffindor common room. He was sitting far too close to the fire, but Ron didn't even notice the heat.

Thoughts were churning through his head, thoughts he didn't even know he had—thoughts of the girl he loved.

Or thought he loved.

Whichever made more sense.

Right now, even he wasn'tsure. _Why does everything have to be so complicated?_

"Oh hello Ron. Have you seen my Runes book? It's new, I just bought it yesterday in Hogsmeade, but now I can't find it."

Ron's hand flew to his hair as he jumped up from the floor. "No—" he squeaked shrilly. He tried again, his ears turning red. "Ahem. No."

"Oh," she replied, looking at him oddly. "Well, tell me if you see it then. It has a blue cover."

Ron watched her leave. (Her robes swished around her ankles as she walked.) He plopped down in an armchair and sighed, breathing heavily. His heart was beating a million miles an hour, as it always did whenever she was in view.

Ron smiled as he thought back on all the memories of them together. When he had first met the girl, he hated her.

_When did things start to change?_

That was easy. Third year. He wasn't sure why. There was no reason, no monumental event that made his feelings change so suddenly. All he knew was that he started noticing the way her lips moved ever so slightly as she read to herself. The way she carried herself with such grace and poise, even with all those books constantly slung over her shoulder. And most of all, the way they started fighting. Every. Single. Day. It was enough to make him want to rip his tongue out, just so she wouldn't be subject toall those hurtful things.

She had such a pretty name. He said it to himself. _Hermione. Hermione Granger._

Ron stared into the fire as it crackled, watching the blood-red flames dance around the logs. He said it again, but this time aloud.

"Hermione."

* * *

Hermione Granger sat on her four-poster bed—doing homework . What else was new? Her roommates, Lavender and Parvati, were off in the land of Who Cares, doing their new favorite activity, Whatever. Lately, this seemed to include whispering behind their hands, giggling, shooting her furtive glances whenever she entered the room, and basically just acting weird.

Hermione wished that she had her Runes book. She had ventured into the common room to look for it, only to find it completely deserted—except for Ron. Quite strange. The room was usually filled with loud, chattering students that gave her a headache. Come to think of it, she could feel one of them coming on right now.

She set down her Arithmancy book, laid her head on her pillow, and sighed. Her thoughts were all screwed up today, and she was in her worst mood since the fifth grade, when her best friend moved to Chicago. She placed her hands over her eyes. Sleep seemed a very joyous prospect at the moment, but her busy mind could not be put to rest.

_Well_, she thought, _as long as I have to think, I might as well try and think of something useful._ She cast her mind around, trying to find a suitable subject. But no matter how hard she tried, she kept coming back to Ron. Oh no. He was _not _a part of that category.

This was frustrating. She was getting to that giggly age where all she could think of was boys. (And one boy in particular.) The girls in her Muggle school back school back home had started to reach it long before Hermione.

But now it was here, and it was taking control of her life. Every time she and Ron were alone for more than a few minutes, she could feel a hot blush creeping up her cheeks and her brain turning to mush.

Suddenly Hermione came back to her senses and mentally chided herself. _YOU DO NOT LIKE RON. He is a selfish, shallow, immature pig. _Yet another, much less logistic voice argued with it, and she couldn't help feeling that the latter was right.

With a little sigh and a groan, Hermione Granger pulled up the bed-covers, sank into her pillow and found herself falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

And…it's done! Chapter One, anyway. Please please please with ketchup and mustard and gravy on top, PLEASE review.

Chelsea the Purplereader


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